


Don't Let Go

by RunWithWolves



Series: 30 Days of Creampuff [17]
Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: 30DaysofCreampuff, F/F, hostage au, requestweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-04-02 14:27:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4063339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunWithWolves/pseuds/RunWithWolves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As an FBI agent, Carmilla's not about to lose her cool when the bank she's in gets held up by a bomber with a death wish and a dead-man switch. However, she hadn't accounted for the spunky hostage negotiator they send in to handle the situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Let Go

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request from Somewherewithinforever. I know you asked for a straight up hostage au and I promise that I started there but then... well... I couldn't quite leave them as passive participants. Hope this still works!

Carmilla glared at the two people standing between her and the bank teller as though it was their fault that she was stiff and sore and had just spent an hour taking the new lackwit recruits on a mock real field test that they’d just plain butchered. Objectively, she knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault but that didn’t mean she didn’t briefly think about flashing her gun and her badge to cut in line. 

Briefly. 

There had to be some perks to being an FBI agent. 

Instead, Carmilla leaned against the large marble wall of the bank and let her eyes flutter across the interior. Two tellers. The guy in front of her. Couple of people over by the cash machines. She looked to her right, reflexively turning her casual observation into a mental exercise. While the counters by the tellers were high, the desk to her right was low enough that it could easily be vaulted over. Security flaw. Quick shimmy and she’d be in the blindspot of 90% of the building from behind the desk. 

When shots rang out in the building, Carmilla was leaping over the desk before her brain could consciously think to act. 

#

Laura wove through the crowd of cops and tried not to think about the look of fear on her Father’s face when her second phone had gone off. She’d picked it up immediately, giving him an apologetic smile and a kiss on the cheek. Then she’d turned to the door.

Same as every time. 

People knew her face well enough to get out of her way and the crowd parted like the Saviour had arrived. She hated that nickname. A gift from Laf. But she couldn’t deny that 9 times out of 10 she was all that stood between a bullet and a lot of people dying. It was the tenth time that wore on her soul. 

She was met at the edge of the caution tape perimeter by Captain Lawrence. 

“You know,” Laura sidled up beside her, “today is my day off.”

Danny didn’t even give her a smile, “William Eisen. Caucasian male. Late 20’s. Angry. Bomb strapped to his chest with a dead man’s trigger.” Laura winced. There was a reason it was called a dead man’s trigger. The thumb leaves the trigger for any reason, including the death of the person holding the button, and the bomb still blows. 

Laura shook off thoughts of her father and turned professional, “Any demands?”

“None, so far.” the Captain said.

“What’s his deal?” Laura asked.

“Far as we can tell, he thinks the bank ripped him off,” the Captain said, “we’re working on it.”

Laura waved off the tech offering her a bulletproof vest, “How many hostages?”

Danny frowned, “We count six, two tellers, a bank manager, and three patrons, but it’s hard to say.” Danny pointed at the structure of the bank, “we’ve got limited sight lines inside so for all we know he’s got associates with guns standing right inside the door.”

“Well,” Laura shrugged and gave Danny a small smile, “We’ll know soon enough.”

She took a deep breath and wiped her hands on her pants.

“Laura,” Danny’s voice was softer now and the Captain placed a hand on her arm, “Are you sure you won’t wear the vest or bring a gun? You know all the other negotiators do and I worry that...”

Laura stepped away from her, she didn’t need this right now, “I’ve got the highest non-lethal closure case in the city, Captain. While I appreciate the concern, I assure you that I am aware of the risks.” She looked up, letting a hint of steel seep into her eyes before she whisked it away, “Let’s get me in that building and all those people home.”

#

The guy with the bomb was an idiot. Carmilla crouched behind the desk, watching as he corralled the tellers from their posts but failed to actually do a sweep to check for anyone hidden. An amateur. Shaking gun hand. Sweat poured from his forehead, marking his nervousness. A man running on emotions was never the person you wanted holding the gun. 

Carmilla would know. She had one. 

She watched as he paced through the bank lobby, mentally cursing as he failed to come close enough for to do. Well. Anything. Carmilla eyed the dead man’s trigger. The only way out of this was for her to get her hands around the trigger and keep the button down so that SWAT could burst through the doors and bash his head in. Otherwise, they were all going boom. 

Unless she got a miracle. 

The unmistakable squeak from the bank door wheezed through the lobby. Carmilla muffled her groan, knowing that it would inevitably be a large male hostage negotiator ready to totally mismanage the scene and get into a male pissing contest with the bomber. She’d seen it before. 

Carmilla peered around the desk and felt her heart stop. 

A tiny female brunette stood just inside the doors, hands in the air. No vest. Grinning. 

Silence hung in the air as Carmilla’s muscles tightened and her fingers flicked the safety on her gun. Mentally hurling every expletive she could. This girl was going to get herself shot. No vest. She was crazy. How dare they send a freaking amateur into a situation like this. 

“Hey, I’m Laura,” the girl said, hands still in the air and a smile on her face, “Is it cool if I come in?”

Carmilla tensed as the bomber’s free hand lifted the gun and pointed it at the new entrant. 

“Get out,” the man’s voice was wavering, “I don’t have any demands.”

“Okay. Okay,” Laura bobbed her head, “still, would you mind if I stayed? My boss is going to be awful mad if I just turn right around and head back to her. Then I’m not going to get my vacation and I was already making plans. You know. Beaches and sun? Get away from this terrible weather. So I’d really like to be in her good books, if you don’t mind helping a girl out and letting her take a seat?”

Carmilla clutched her gun, waiting for the bomber to let out a shot that ended the girl’s life. Tiny adorable idiot.

Instead, the silence was cut by a ragged bark of a laugh. The bomber lowered the gun and gestured towards the other hostages, “Sure. Why not?”

Laura lowered her hands as Carmilla gaped at what had just happened. “Awesome,” Laura said, sounding more to Carmilla like a University student than a trained negotiator. “Always great to talk to someone who gets it!”

She shot the man a beaming smile and made her way across the room, bypassing the other hostages to sit against the wall Carmilla had been leaning against. Carmilla gave her a once over. The girl was, in a word, cute. In jeans and a simple button-up, she could have been the girl who just walked off the street. 

Carmilla was almost tempted to believe it. No-one would be crazy enough to walk into a live hostage situation without a vest on. 

And yet, here was the real life personification of sunshine waltzing into her hostage situation.

While Carmilla wasn’t explicitly trained in this, she did know that someone the cutie’s size had no chance of taking out someone the bomber’s size. Not to mention she needed to alert the negotiator to her presence. Plus, the girl hadn’t even noticed her and she was supposed to be a professional at this. 

Looking around, Carmilla spotted a large stack of blank paper and a marker.

#

Laura kept the grin on her face despite the rolling of her stomach as she took a seat against the far wall. She hadn’t gotten shot in the first five minutes which was promising. She took a second look over the room. 

The hostages looks scared but fine. No pregnant women or children to worry about. No heroes. The best way to compromise a situations was to have some hostage with a hero complex try and take matters into their own hands. These were hostages she could handle, no extra variables. 

The bomber on the other hand. Laura forced her shoulders to relax as she watched him. One shoelace untied. Messy hair but the kind that came from too product. Watch. Well scuffed running shoes. The clothes were clean but definitely a few years old. 

Man hard on his luck perhaps. 

A small but persistent tapping to her right drew Laura’s attention. She looked over, concealing her surprise when she spotted a woman crouched behind the desk. The woman was classically gorgeous, great bone structure, long black hair in small waves. 

Laura stretched her neck, keeping herself from looking at the woman for any length of time. Thankfully, the bomber was too busy pacing to notice her. 

She looked back over when the woman slid something out into the open. Laura recognized it instantly. A badge, FBI. She held in the groan. Of course. Some muscle-headed federal agent was just the hero she didn’t need escalating the situation. 

Then she noticed the words written on the paper, ‘Move him to me’. 

Laura sat on her anger. Move him to me. Of all the stupid ideas. That’s how people got shot. Killed. You don’t just jump a guy with a dead-man bomb. With a quick look at the bomber, Laura shot the FBI agent a deep scowl. 

#

Carmilla blinked and retracted her paper, scowling right back at the negotiator. How did the cupcake think this was going to play out if not in a shot em up? And it’s not like Laura here was going to do it. The girl’s scowl was less of a scowl and more of an adorable bunched up nose. 

Carmilla stared intently at Laura’s head. The negotiator was simply looking around the room, that charming smile still permanently glued to her face. 

Folding the paper back, she wrote a second message, underlining it for emphasis and smirking at the negotiator, “At least talk to him. Do your job!”

Laura looked over briefly before turning back to the room. She flicked her fingers twice. Carmilla raised an eyebrow, she’d never seen someone aggressively smile. She fought the impulse to be impressed

#

When she got out of here Laura was going to punch something. Hard. And she was going to picture the smirking mug of the FBI agent as she did it. 

Tell her how to do her job. Please.

Laura’s finger bounced up and down. She knew it would look like absent jitters to the bomber but the Captain would understand the morse code - Ring the phone. 

Minutes later, the bank phone behind the desk rang. 

The bomber jumped at the sound. 

“That’s probably for you,” Laura said now that the silence had been broken. 

The bomber looked over at her, “Well, I told you. I don’t want to talk to them.”

“Could be for me too, I suppose,” Laura left her arms dangling at her sides, open, “I mean, it’s probably my coffee break right about now. Could be Great Aunt Elsie calling for a chat.”

The man looked at her skeptically. 

“Once,” Laura said, “she had a pizza delivered to me while I was working a different job. I mean, personally I’m more of a cookie person but apparently there’s nowhere in this crazy town that will deliver cookies on demand, so you’ve just got to make do.”

“My grandmother,” the man said hesitantly, “had a great recipe for cookies. Best I’ve ever had.”

Laura leaned forward. An opening, “Woman after my own heart. What kind are we talking?”

“Chocolate chip,” he said, “really melts in your mouth.”

Laura let a moan that was calculated to affect straight men and gay women everywhere, “See, that’s what I’m talking about. Don’t suppose you’ve got the recipe?”

The man stared at her, gulped slightly, and shook his head.

“Ah well,” Laura said to keep the conversation going, “maybe next time. I’ve never been much of a baker myself. Too prone to snacking while I’m eating, you know? Plus, just flour got everywhere and it was a total disaster. One time I tried to make these cupcakes...”

#

Carmilla took back everything she’d thought about Laura being the wrong person for the job. Just twenty minutes of her light prattle and Carmilla was ready to give her more than a smile. The girl had a voice that invoked images of the good old wholesome days and sunny picnic dates. The unfading smile and cute hand gestures didn’t hurt either. 

Plus that moan. 

That was a moan that she wouldn’t be opposed to hearing again. 

It had to be exhausting though. Talking on and on with a less than contributing partner. The bomber was definitely listening and Carmilla could see his shoulders relaxing, but the cupcake wasn’t being given much to go on. 

She was still on snack foods and Carmilla wondered if this was simply a passion of Laura’s or if she was trying to make the man hungry. Hopefully get him to order a pizza that would inevitably be laced with sedatives. 

Either way, it was making Carmilla hungry. 

Flipping the page on her notebook, she wrote another note, “You forgot the sprinkles on those cupcakes.”

Laura’s gaze flipped over her so briefly that Carmilla wasn’t even sure Laura had seen her note but a moment later, Laura started discussing her favourite kind of sprinkle. 

Just in case anyone wanted to know.

Carmilla flipped the page on her notebook and grinned. Maybe this could be fun. 

#

“And then you absolutely would not believe what Great Aunt Elsie did, Will,” Laura made sure to throw in the man’s name as many times as possible, “she calls us to let us know that she’s just suddenly decided to go to Europe for the weekend! You ever been to Europe, WIll?”

The bomber smiled slightly, “once. back in high school we went to France.”

“No way,” Laura made up the story as she went along, “then you totally know what coming! She sends us this photo of her strolling around Paris underneath the Eiffel Tower with just a hoard of these handsome young men.”

There was a flash of white to her right. Laura kept prattling on about Great Aunt Elsie’s adventures in Europe when she spotted the FBI agent’s note

“The Parisian men are overrated,” the woman wrote, “it’s the woman you really want.”

“And then,” Laura continued, “she has the gall to send us all these fancy photos of her in the Louvre with all this art and sunning on a beach and exoctice locals!” Will was smiling at her and Laura gave an internal cheer. Everyone loved Great Aunt Elsie and her hostages always related to being the poor provincial girl left at home while rich relatives travels the world. 

When she looked up there was a new note from the agent, “was it a topless beach? Cause if not, I’ll take you to one if we get out of this. ”

Laura barely shook her head, a small smile on her face, and moved onto the time Great Aunt Elsie had entered a hot dog eating contest and nearly choked as she tried to stuff 3 hot dogs in her mouth. 

She almost choked herself when she looked over at the next note, “that’s the problem with anything shaped like a hotdog. Should’ve stuck to tacos.”

#

An hour later, Laura found herself missing the FBI agent’s notes. She’d gotten the bomber to release 5 of the hostages and the mounting fear that they’d spot the agent and everything would deteriorate was only growing. There was no way he was letting the bank manager go, the object of his wrath. 

And she was running out of time. Will looked exhausted and Laura was worried that his finger might slip off the trigger accidentally.

She mentally swore, there wasn’t going to be a peaceful ending to this one. 

The flash of light came through the window again. The Captain’s repeated requests to breach the building. Finally Laura tapped out her acceptance and a second request. ‘Ring the phone and enter on my count’.

Laura wished she could somehow communicate what was about to happen to the agent. 

Will was still pacing the floor and Laura marked his steps, watching as he wheeled back and forth. She held out five fingers as he walked towards her. 

Four

Three

Two

One

The phone rang just as he was closest to her. Will started at the sound and Laura leapt forward, ignoring the blast that was the swat team beginning to breach the building. She shot forward. Latching onto the hand around the trigger and squeezing as tightly as she could to keep the hand from moving off. 

She felt Will step back, trying to shake her off and braced herself for impact. Holding down the trigger was more important than missing a blow. 

The punch never landed. 

Will’s fist impacted with the FBI agent’s face as the dark haired woman got in the way. She grunted once in pain and threw a return punch. The two tousling together as Laura crouched in the middle, focused on nothing but the trigger. She forgave the agent the jab to her ribs. Tight quarters. 

The three of them went down and there was a hard smack as the agent pounded Will once more. Then, slender hands came down to encase Laura’s own. 

She looked up into the dark eyes that had taunted her for hours. She gave the woman a tired smile. 

The agent smirked down at her, “Do me a favour cupcake?” The agent's voice was a deeper rasp than she’d been anticipating and it sent a shiver down Laura’s spine even as the agent squeezed her hands tighter, “Don’t let go.”

Laura’s jaw dropped, indignant, “Never!”

**Author's Note:**

> Request Prompt from somewherewithinforever- If you're still taking prompts, I've always /really/ wanted to see a "trapped in a bank robbery together AU." Thanks so much!
> 
> Please know that I'm LOVING all of your zaniness and kudos and comments and tumblr stop-ins (http://ariabauer.tumblr.com/) with your adorkable and kind comments. You guys have been wonderfully supportive, and you keep me sane. And yes, I do read every single one. Multiple times.
> 
> This is the seventeenth story of '30 Days of Creampuff' where I'll be posting a Carmilla fanfic chapter every weekday for 30 days. NEW SEASON STARTED TODAY! For not having a season start date when I started this thing i did remarkably great job of almost timing it right in the middle ;)
> 
> Stay stupendous. Aria.


End file.
